Breaking the Tradition: The 373rd Hunger Games
by PlatinumZephyr
Summary: The 373rd Hunger Games are here, and after losing viewers, "they are doing something new." They are giving the tributes a chance to chose up to two animal-like implants to use during the games.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: "They're doing something new."

Implants? Are you fucking kidding me? I had heard that they had come up with a new idea, but really? Doesn't this almost change the entire nature of the games? The whole premise- no not premise; I can't think of the right word for it. But doesn't that almost defeat the idea of having such primitive supplies and- what's the use? No matter what I think, they won't change their minds. There's nothing I can do. I guess it doesn't matter anyway. It's not like they're going to pick me. Whatever.

My name is Zephyr, and I'm sixteen years old. Next year will be my last chance to be reaped, and I can't wait to be out of the drawing forever. Every year, I have lived in fear of getting chosen, but I am prepared. I know what I will do should I get picked. I won't hesitate; I will leap off my platform and end it quickly. I feel genuinely sorry for the people who do get picked for this clusterfuck bloodbath.

The reaping is today. I worryingly anticipate the moment when my name is drawn from that bowl. Oh, how I hate that stupid glass bowl. Every time I see it, I die a little more. Only this time, I feel like it might finally kill me. My mother has laid out some fresh clothes for me. I sit up in bed for a few minutes, then I get up. I walk around my room thinking to myself, wondering who will be chosen to die today. Through my fear, I still am able to get ready.

My father sits in the kitchen, waiting for his coffee to finish brewing. He doesn't care what happens to anyone. He doesn't care what happens to me. He just likes to watch the games. Sometimes, I wonder if he even knows he has a son.

"The reaping is today," I tell him. He just sits there. It takes me about three minutes to notice he is asleep. I sigh and walk out the door.

The air is cool, and the fields are full. The harvest will be very bountiful this year. At least I know that if I get chosen and die, my district will stay alive. It's all so beautiful. I hate to leave it behind.

What am I thinking? They aren't going to pick me! I don't know how I know, but I just know they won't! But, then again, does anyone expect to be picked? Even the people who plan to volunteer don't think they'll get picked. That's why they plan to volunteer!

I walk down the streets and say hello to the other potential tributes. I wonder which of them will be the two that I will never see again. Up ahead I see my friend, Sarabi Jacobs. She is a year older than me and has tan skin and beautiful green eyes. I run to catch up to her. She sees me and walks beside me. "Hey Zephyr." She doesn't seem too excited to see me. It's probably because she knows she has a strong possibility of being chosen. Every year, she puts her name in the drawing at least fifty times. Her family has no money, and they have to be very careful as to not run out of food.

"Hi Sarabi," I say back to her. "How many times did you put your name in this year?" She doesn't respond for a few seconds, and I know the number has to be higher than usual. I come to the realization of how likely it is that she will get picked.

A worried look passes over Sarabi's face. "One hundred," she finally says very quietly. My eyes widen almost to the point where they would fall out.

"Are you fucking crazy?" I yell, "They'll pick you for sure!" I notice that several people are staring at me.

Sarabi's face turns from worry to sorrow, and she starts crying. "Sarabi, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

"No! I know they're going to pick me! But this is my last reaping! We have no money! And without the games, we have no way to get food! If I expected to win, I would have put my name in three hundred times! At least without me, my family won't need nearly as much food."

"Sarabi! Don't even think like that! I didn't mean what I said. I'm just nervous."

She calms down. "It's okay. I understand. We're all nervous. Some of us just more than others," She teases.

"Oh shut up you." I smile back at her. "You and your family can always come live with my parents and me."

"Would your parents be okay with that?"

"I don't know. My dad probably wouldn't even notice as long as they still play reruns of the old games."

"What about your mom- oh. You were probably joking, weren't you?"

"No! Of course not! I wouldn't do that to you!"

"Thanks Zephyr. But I'm still worried. What if they do pick me? There are people who have been training for this all their lives!"

"Yeah, but they're doing something new. I don't really think anyone is prepared for that!"

"I guess…"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: "Poor Guy"

I notice that we arrived at the plaza where the reaping was to take place. They took our blood and sorted us by ages, same old shit. I am nervous; not for me, but for Sarabi. I know she'll get chosen, but I know what to do. I can't volunteer to take her place, but I can fight alongside her. If she was chosen and I wasn't there with her, I couldn't live with myself. I'm just worried that if it does come to that, I won't live at all.

Everyone is deathly still as a tall, thin man approaches the microphone perched on the edge of the stage. He taps it a few times before he speaks. "Welcome all, to the three hundred seventy-third Hunger Games. Today, one courageous young man and woman will be chosen to represent District Seven." Yeah, more like sentenced to death. When was the last time District Seven had a winner? I think it might have been the three hundred fifty-third or something like that. I wasn't alive then, but my father has told me all about it. He is really proud of it, as if it had something to do with him.

The tall man continued, "We will now begin with the drawing." I'm glad they don't show the stupid video anymore. I wasn't around when they did that, but from what I hear, it was boring as hell. "As usual, we will start with the men." How courteous.

The large glass bowl is brought on stage by some guards and set before the man. He dips his hand inside and makes no effort to add suspense. He just jams his hand in there and pulls it out just as quickly. When his hand resurfaces, he holds a small slip of paper in his hand. He reads the name of the poor boy that would probably die in a few weeks, "Titus Rolfe." Everyone looks around. A few people turn to one boy who I can only assume is Titus Rolfe. He looks startled and scared. Poor guy. He reluctantly walks up to the stage and stands before the crowd. It is time to find out which unlucky girl will be chosen.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: "WHAT?"

The tall man once again dips his hand into a bowl; a new one this time. This time, however, he does so more slowly. The crowd is completely silent, all still with anticipation and fright. Titus Rolfe looks the worst out of everyone. By now he has probably come to the realization that in a couple of weeks, he'll be dead. The tall man's hand finally comes out of the bowl, another slip of paper in his hand. He looks at the name and prepares to speak it. I feel a sudden chill up my spine. If only I had realized it was a premonition of sorts, what the tall man said next wouldn't have shocked me as much. "Sarabi Jacobs."

My eyes widen suddenly, and, almost involuntarily, I shout, "WHAT? NO!" Everyone looks at me. Great, that's twice today I have drawn unnecessary attention to myself, but right now that is the least of my worries. Sarabi has been chosen to fight to the death with twenty-three other people! Why am I being so selfish? Almost in self-redemption, I shout again, "Fuck it, I volunteer!" Three times.

The crowd watches me as I walk up to the stage. Their faces are either expressionless or shocked. I notice Titus's look of relief and gratitude towards me. When he passes me, he thanks me for saving his life. "Yeah, don't mention it," I tell him sarcastically. Oh fuck, what have I gotten myself into?

I stand on the stage next to Sarabi. She looks at me, confused. I give her a reassuring look, and the tall man speaks again, "Ladies and gentleman, District Seven's tributes for the three hundred seventy-third annual Hunger Games!" Shit.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: "Good luck"

Some guards escort us to our rooms. I know how this works. They let our family and whoever visit us for a few minutes before they ship us off to the Capital to be televised and examined.

After a long time of waiting, my mother enter the room. Finally. She speaks. "Honey, what were you thinking? You're going to get killed!" Her face shows concern and worry.

"Thanks mom," I say.

"Sorry Zephyr. I'm just-," She pauses, unsure of what to say.

"It's fine Mom. I know. I just couldn't let Sarabi go get killed alone. You know how much she means to me."

"I know Zephyr. I was wrong to say that."

"It's okay Mom. Hey, maybe Dad will actually pay attention to us now."

"If you're dead, he probably won't pay attention to anything. He actually loves you, you know."

"He never really let us know that. It's like all he cares about are the Hunger Games."

"Zephyr, do you know how old your father is?" "Of course. He's thirty-seven."

"What does that have to do with anything?" I ask.

"Zephyr, your father was in the three hundred fifty-third Hunger Games. He is the last winner from District Seven." I don't know how to react to this. "Zephyr, you are going to win. You will be the second Aeolis to win the Hunger Games."

"But, what about Sarabi?" She is really the only thing on my mind right now.

"I'm sorry sweetie, but you can't both win. And if only one of you can live, I would rather it be you."

I am shocked. "So you just want Sarabi to die? You want me to go into that arena and kill her?"

"No!" "So you want me to just go and let someone else kill her? Mom! Why would you wish death upon my best and only friend?"

"I am not wishing death upon anybody!" We both calm down.

"I'm sorry, Mom." It is my turn to apologize. "It's just, I can't stand the thought of losing her, especially to these horrendous games!"

"I'm sorry Zephyr, but you know what has to happen…"

The guards enter the room and begin to escort my mother out of the room. "Zephyr," she says, "I know you don't want them to change your body with implants, but take them. And play aggressively!"

"But-," I begin

"You have to live. Promise me."

"I promise," I mumble apprehensively.

"That doesn't count."

"I promise," I say more powerfully.

"Good. And Zephyr, good luck."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: "I'm gonna die"

A few minutes later, we are in a car. Sarabi is sitting right next to me. We drive through the entirety of District Seven. The wheat fields are blooming with lush grains. Suddenly, I remember a story we were once told in school. It is about how District Seven came to be the agricultural center of Panem.

According to the story, about three hundred years ago, District Seven was the lumber district, and the agriculture district was District Eleven. "During the seventy-fourth Hunger Games, a girl named Katniss saw her ally, a twelve year old girl named Rue, speared in the abdomen. She promised to win the games for both of them, and Katniss decorated Rue's body with flowers. This caused an uprising in Rue's district, District Eleven. Buildings were destroyed, people were trampled, and, uh, shit broke. I don't remember all of it. I remember that after all settled, there was nothing left of the already poor District Eleven. Katniss was killed in the Games, and some boy from District Two won. District Seven somehow managed to take over the agricultural industry. I don't really remember how. I never really pay attention in school, and I guess I never will. I'll never go again, because I'm gonna die."

"You're not going to die Zephyr." I am startled, but I realize it's just Sarabi.

"Oh, was I thinking out loud?"

"Um, yeah. Oh, and the reason we took over the agriculture industry is because with all the damage done in the riot, the people needed a lot of lumber, and District Eleven was too poor to continue its own business."

"Oh, well… Thanks Sarabi, I guess."

"No problem Zephyr," she says smugly.

"I heard that it was because of our boundaries being so close," says our escort, the tall man, from the front of the car.

"Um, Melvin," says Sarabi, "We are on opposite sides of Panem." Oh, his name is Melvin.

"Well, I heard it from a crazy person on the streets, so I guess it could be less than credible." They both laugh. I don't know how they could find humor in anything at a time like this. It seems like they have forgotten about the Hunger Games. "So, what kind of implants do you guys want?" Oh shit. I completely forgot about those. Oh man, what am I going to do regarding that situation?

"Well, what are our options?" asks Sarabi.

"Well, I don't know all of them. They won't announce them all until the parade, but I do know a few. One of them is eyes with enhanced night vision, and I'm pretty sure claws are an option as well."

"Oh, I didn't think they meant _those _kind of implants," I say. Sarabi and Melvin both laugh. I don't understand what is funny about that.

"Oh Zephyr," says Sarabi, "You never cease to amuse me."

I smile weakly and respond, "Thanks Sarabi."

"So kids," Melvin says, "what do you think so far?"

"It sounds dumb as fuck," I respond.

"Oh come on! It will be interesting!"

"That's because you aren't competing, Melvin. You're not the one who was ripped away from his life just to die in some stupid arena for the entertainment of an asshole president and his slave bitches!" There is a brief moment of silence, and I realize what I just did. "I'm sorry, it's just…"

"I know how it is, Zephyr. I've been the escort for a lot of kids. You're not the only one who feels that way, you know."

"He's right Zephyr," Sarabi says. She moves her hand towards mine. I start to get nervous. She's never done this before. I don't really know how to react. I- oh, shit. I hope nobody notices…

Sarabi starts to giggle. "Do you need a book?" she asks jokingly.

"Oh shut up."

"Here we are kids!" says Melvin. I look out the window and see pillars and trains. Ah crap, there's another ride? As if the car ride wasn't long enough…


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: "Maybe we do have a chance"

We get out of the car, and not a moment too soon. My little problem is gone now. While I'm embarrassed that Sarabi noticed, I'm also glad that nobody else did. I look around and notice that we are at a train station. One would think I should know all about this, but this is the part of the games they don't televise. Well, that and the training. I really have no idea what to expect with either of those.

"Well here we are," says Melvin as he unfolds himself from the car ride.

"Oh yay. Another ride," I say sarcastically.

"Come on kid! It'll be fun!" Melvin tries to convince me. It didn't work.

"I'm just tired from all this traveling."

"It was a twenty minute car ride."

"Well-"

"And there will be beds on the train." He laughs.

I sigh and say "Fine." We walk to the door to the train and step inside. Holy shit! Look at all this! The interior of the train is decorated beautifully with red velvety carpet and a plethora of colors all blended perfectly into one area. There are several chairs and couches scattered around the room as well. They all look really confortable. Not only that, but I watch enough television to know that the tributes aren't tied down to one car of the train. While the actual rides aren't shown, they have given a tour of one of the trains before. If this one is anything like the one I saw on television, then I think I will like this very much.

"What do you think kids?" asks Melvin.

"It looks nice," says Sarabi.

"Nice is an understatement! This is amazing!" I exclaim. I turn to Melvin. "How many cars are there?"

"Um, let me think…"

"Oh, who cares? I just can't wait!" I run into the next car to have a look at what is in it. The room is decorated much the same way as the previous one, except instead of several couches and chairs, there is a table in the middle surrounded by chairs, and piled high with delicious and juicy looking food. "When do we get to eat it?" I ask.

"Whenever," Melvin replies.

"Sweet." I immediately begin stuffing my face with assorted meats and beverages.

"Zephyr," Sarabi scolds, "Don't be such a pig!"

"W, Cm'n!" I saw with my mouth full.

After that, Melvin shows us to our sleeping cars. They are as plush as expected. My stomach full, I lie down and fall asleep.


End file.
